


as you are, as you were

by saiditallbefore



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 08:12:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/pseuds/saiditallbefore
Summary: One year, three months, and eleven days after Project Pegasus, Maria realizes she’s in love with her best friend.Four times Maria missed Carol and one time she didn't have to.





	as you are, as you were

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to wishonadarkstar for cheerleading and being willing to answer random questions about the military!
> 
> Title comes from "Come As You Are" by Nirvana.

**I.**

One year, three months, and eleven days after Project Pegasus, Maria realizes she’s in love with her best friend. 

She’s been washing the dishes, glancing out the window at Monica playing in their handkerchief-sized backyard. Her eyes had landed on the collection of pictures she keeps in the windowsill: Monica as a baby and a toddler and a preschooler, and Maria’s parents, and Maria and Carol at their Air Force Academy graduation, and Maria and Carol in front of a YF-23 and Maria and Carol on a night out, and Maria and Carol and Monica, all together one afternoon.

The realization is like the last piece of a puzzle, clicking into place. The pieces had been there for her to see, all along, but only now does she realize the picture they create.

The Air Force says Carol is dead, but how could Carol— so vivid, so _alive_ — be dead? Her absence is like a missing limb. Since Pegasus failed, Maria has expected her to walk through the front door at any minute. 

And now she knows why— knows that this is more than just a longing for her missing best friend and fellow pilot. She’s in love with Carol. Maybe she’s been in love with Carol from the very start.

* * *

**II.**

She fights hard to stay in the Force after the failure of Pegasus. The brass had done their best to cover it all up— to pretend that Lawson and Carol had never even existed. They would’ve been happy to quietly pay her off and shuffle her out of the service.

To tell the truth, she considers it. As a black woman— a single mother— in the Air Force, it would be the easy way out. _Anything_ would be easier than walking on base without Carol by her side.

Besides, her job may be harder without Carol at her side, and Maria is more aware than ever that any flight may be her last, but she still loves flying. 

But by the time the force reduction is announced, Maria is tired. She loves flying, but that isn’t enough anymore. She wants to watch Monica grow up without worrying about leaving her daughter an orphan. She wants to go somewhere that isn’t haunted by the ghosts she carries around in her heart.

She takes the voluntary separation and moves back home to Louisiana.

* * *

**III.**

Maria doesn’t unbox most of Carol’s old things after the move. 

It’s not intentional at first. There’s a lot of things she doesn’t unbox right after the move.

It’s easier to— not _forget_ , but to allow the wound in her heart to scar over. But memories don’t let themselves be boxed away so easily. She sees Carol in glimpses of blonde-haired women, in the curve of a stranger’s smile, in the the determination in Monica’s eyes.

Even if Maria did want to forget, Monica wouldn’t allow it. She curls up in her Auntie Carol’s old jacket when she’s watching TV and wears it like a costume when she’s pretending to be an astronaut. Maria doesn’t have the heart to take it and box it away with the rest of Carol’s things— not until the day when Monica spills ketchup on it.

She panics. 

Later, she’ll see how guilty Monica feels and will make it up to her. But in the moment, all she can feel is one of the last pieces she has of Carol slipping away from her.

* * *

**IV.**

Carol is alive.

Maria would think it was a dream, Carol just strolling into her backyard after all these years, except for what comes next.

Carol is alive, but she says her name is Vers, and she’s spouting off nonsense about shapeshifters and aliens and intergalactic wars. 

She remembers flashes, she says. Maria is afraid to ask how many of those flashes are about her— about the two of them, together.

As excuses for staying away go, it’s a good one. But it doesn’t make Maria feel any better, knowing that it was aliens who took Carol and changed her and used her.

And then Vers smiles, and it gives Maria a spark of hope that maybe, just _maybe_ , she’s still Carol Danvers underneath.

* * *

**I.**

Aliens are real, and Maria has met them.

And now Carol has gone back to them. 

Maria had wanted to say something. She had wanted Carol to stay behind, to stay with _her_.

Part of her had wanted to go with Carol— but that was unthinkable. Maria had a life on Earth, and a daughter to think about. She didn’t have superpowers.

She can’t even fault Carol for leaving again. If Carol stood by and did nothing when there were people— or aliens— who needed her help, she wouldn’t be the woman Maria had fallen in love with.

But that doesn’t make it any easier to say goodbye, knowing that Carol is off to stop an intergalactic war and Maria might never see her again.

It _does_ mean Maria gets (another) shock of her life six months later, when she opens the door and sees a familiar figure on the front stoop.

Hands in the pockets of the old Air Force jacket, Carol shakes her hair out of her face and gives Maria a grin.

“Hey stranger,” she says.

“Shouldn’t you be off saving the universe?” Maria asks, her heart in her throat.

“Let’s call it a shore leave,” Carol says, and Maria laughs.

“Besides,” Carol adds, stepping closer to Maria, “I realized there was something I forgot to do.” 

Before Maria can react, Carol is kissing her. Maria digs her hands into the lapels of Carol’s coat, pulling her closer, as Carol’s arms wrap around her.

When they finally break apart, a little breathless and a little warm, Maria looks at Carol.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that,” she says.

“I don’t,” Carol says, a regretful tone in her voice. Then she smiles again. “But maybe you can tell me about it?”


End file.
